lamented, as her brow knotted. "I have my children. My husband hasn't worked in so long. I couldn't get the money. And look, it says your Susan wants money. I don't think you have enough to send her some and to pay for a trip to Eagle, do you?"
Mama Cecilia took the letter back, folded it, and remained silent. Priscilla's concern deepened because it seemed clear now that no matter what she said, Mama Cecilia was determined to do this thing. Priscilla wanted to tell the old woman that her son was not worth saving, but that would not be kind. So she said:
"Does your Cole know? He should know. He should be the one to go find her, Mama. Or, at the very least, he should go with you if you are determined."
Mama Cecilia nodded. All that Priscilla Wolf Skin said was true. Her son should go, but he would not even if Mama begged him. She could die, and he might not notice. That's how sure she was that Cole would not go to Eagle. But if she could bring her granddaughter back to this village, Cole might see her and want to be a good man for her. When Mama died, she would have someone to mourn her. Mama was almost certain that she was not enough to inspire her son to be a good man so she would put another person in his way. That person would be Susan.
"Do you want me to talk to Cole?"
Priscilla Wolf Skin was calling after the old woman who was now leaving. She did not answer Priscilla who, Mama knew, thought she was helping just by asking the question. She was not. That Mama Cecilia left dissatisfied was not a bad thing. It only meant that the way to where she needed to go would not be straight.
The old woman walked out of the lodge and then the mile and some feet back to her house. When she had put away her amaut and good moccasins, hung up her good sweater and put on her apron, Mama Cecilia sat on her bed with the letter in her lap. She closed her eyes and considered that the girl might be no better than her father because she asked only for money and not after Mama Cecilia. Then she thought that perhaps Priscilla Wolf Skin might be wiser than Mama gave her credit for. Perhaps a journey together would be good for her son. They would know one another again. If he was walking with her then he could not drink.
She would go tell him. She would smile and help put things in a case for him. She would do everything that needed to be done, and all he would need to do would be to put his feet on the ground and hold her hand.
Mama got off the bed. She went down the short hall to tell her son of these plans, but even before she went into the room Mama Cecilia saw that things were different. The door to her son's room was open wide. Mama looked in and saw that the clothes that had been there were gone.
She made no exclamation of surprise. Instead, she went to look in the wallet that she kept beside her bed in the drawer. Her money was gone. Her son was gone. Mama sat on the bed again because the weight of her heavy heart was too much and she could not remain upright.
After a minute, Mama Cecilia raised her legs and lay down on her neatly made bed. She stared up at the ceiling, crossed her hands over her chest and clasped the letter from her granddaughter beneath them. She listened in case her son should come back and have a cheap present bought with her own money instead of running away to nowhere.
The door did not open.
He did not bring her a present.
He was gone.
Mama Cecilia closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. Soon it looked as if she were dead. But she was only waiting for her good spirits to guide her. When they did her good moccasins would take her where she needed to go.
CHAPTER 9
Andre Guillard sat up in bed, the sheets and blankets falling away to reveal his wondrously naked body. Nell's house was chilly, but for a man used to sleeping out in the open it felt downright toasty. The fire in the potbellied stove in the corner of the room was still burning and Nell was giving off a goodly amount of body heat
Mama Cecilia took the letter back, folded it, and remained silent. Priscilla's concern deepened because it seemed clear now that no matter what she said, Mama Cecilia was determined to do this thing. Priscilla wanted to tell the old woman that her son was not worth saving, but that would not be kind. So she said:
"Does your Cole know? He should know. He should be the one to go find her, Mama. Or, at the very least, he should go with you if you are determined."
Mama Cecilia nodded. All that Priscilla Wolf Skin said was true. Her son should go, but he would not even if Mama begged him. She could die, and he might not notice. That's how sure she was that Cole would not go to Eagle. But if she could bring her granddaughter back to this village, Cole might see her and want to be a good man for her. When Mama died, she would have someone to mourn her. Mama was almost certain that she was not enough to inspire her son to be a good man so she would put another person in his way. That person would be Susan.
"Do you want me to talk to Cole?"
Priscilla Wolf Skin was calling after the old woman who was now leaving. She did not answer Priscilla who, Mama knew, thought she was helping just by asking the question. She was not. That Mama Cecilia left dissatisfied was not a bad thing. It only meant that the way to where she needed to go would not be straight.
The old woman walked out of the lodge and then the mile and some feet back to her house. When she had put away her amaut and good moccasins, hung up her good sweater and put on her apron, Mama Cecilia sat on her bed with the letter in her lap. She closed her eyes and considered that the girl might be no better than her father because she asked only for money and not after Mama Cecilia. Then she thought that perhaps Priscilla Wolf Skin might be wiser than Mama gave her credit for. Perhaps a journey together would be good for her son. They would know one another again. If he was walking with her then he could not drink.
She would go tell him. She would smile and help put things in a case for him. She would do everything that needed to be done, and all he would need to do would be to put his feet on the ground and hold her hand.
Mama got off the bed. She went down the short hall to tell her son of these plans, but even before she went into the room Mama Cecilia saw that things were different. The door to her son's room was open wide. Mama looked in and saw that the clothes that had been there were gone.
She made no exclamation of surprise. Instead, she went to look in the wallet that she kept beside her bed in the drawer. Her money was gone. Her son was gone. Mama sat on the bed again because the weight of her heavy heart was too much and she could not remain upright.
After a minute, Mama Cecilia raised her legs and lay down on her neatly made bed. She stared up at the ceiling, crossed her hands over her chest and clasped the letter from her granddaughter beneath them. She listened in case her son should come back and have a cheap present bought with her own money instead of running away to nowhere.
The door did not open.
He did not bring her a present.
He was gone.
Mama Cecilia closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. Soon it looked as if she were dead. But she was only waiting for her good spirits to guide her. When they did her good moccasins would take her where she needed to go.
CHAPTER 9
Andre Guillard sat up in bed, the sheets and blankets falling away to reveal his wondrously naked body. Nell's house was chilly, but for a man used to sleeping out in the open it felt downright toasty. The fire in the potbellied stove in the corner of the room was still burning and Nell was giving off a goodly amount of body heat
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